


There Is A Certain Taste To It

by stephswims



Series: Fictober 2019 [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Implied Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephswims/pseuds/stephswims
Summary: Established Olicity.Day 9 of Fictober.





	There Is A Certain Taste To It

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the sweet and kind comments on the last part. This one is a little shorter.

There was nothing cuter than Felicity cooking.The crinkle that formed between her eyebrows.Her teeth attacking her bottom lip.The head tilt.All the things that made Oliver’s heart flutter.

She was a great baker.She always made cookies and cupcakes, and they were always delicious, but for some reason, using a pot or a pan stumped her.But she kept trying.At least once a week.Or whenever Oliver came home too late to cook.His wife was nothing if not determined.

“It smells good,” he said optimistically as he shut the door, laying his jacket and keys on the side table, before making his way to her.She glanced up at him briefly with a quick smile, the crinkle in her forehead disappearing briefly, her lip released from the grasp of her teeth, her head straightening.It was only for a second.She quickly went back to stirring the pot in front of her.She often blamed him for distracting her while she was cooking, so he knew better than to complain.

He stood behind her and kissed the back of her head, hands resting gently on her hips.Her smell mixed with the buttery, garlic smell of the food comforted him.This was where he wanted to be.Always.He hated leaving her, even to go to work, though he knew it was a requirement of adulting.She loved her job, so she probably didn’t want to stay here with him all day anyway.

“Taste,” she said softly, navigating the spoon up and behind her.He slurped quickly and hummed.She immediately slumped in defeat.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You didn’t have to.I could tell by that hmmm.”He hated that she sounded so defeated, so frustrated.“Is it that bad?” She asked hesitantly, like she didn’t want to actually know the answer.

“No, it’s not bad,” he answered thoughtfully, “There is a certain taste to it.”He was proud of his answer.He didn’t want to offend her or, worse, increase her frustrations.The more frustrated she got the more time she would spend in the kitchen trying to improve.She would stay up all night if she had to.That was how she finally mastered the art of cooking an omelet.And he did not want that.Not at all.He wanted to spend the rest of the night watching a movie and cuddling.He wanted to be with her. 

“What does that even mean?” She questioned as she dropped the spoon to the counter and turned the burner off.He pulled her closer to him, nuzzling his nose in her hair.

“It means you are improving.Should I order pizza?”He could feel her scrunch her nose up at his suggestion, but she nodded with a sigh.

“Come on,” he said as he spun her around to face him, “We can make dinner tomorrow night, together.”He loved cooking with Felicity.It was another way to spend time with her, be in her presence without having to share her.She enjoyed it…until she got frustrated. 

“You are improving.Let’s focus on that and enjoy our pizza,” he said, kissing her lightly between his words.

“With pineapple?” She asked as her hands travelled up his chest and rested over his shoulders.

“Whatever you want,” he replied with another kiss. 

“Pineapple.Definitely pineapple,” she replied as she pulled his face down to hers, pressing her lips firmly against his.This was all he needed.This was his reason for living, for waking up each morning, for going to work everyday.His hands wandered to her ass, pulling her closer to him.He could never get enough.He would never be able to. 

“Dessert first?” She whispered softly as he picked her up.

“Yes, please,” he replied with another kiss.They would get distracted, lose themselves in each other.They didn’t have enough time to do that these days.They would probably realize too late that they hadn’t eaten dinner.The pizzeria would be closed, and they would end up eating mint chip snuggled up on the couch, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.He cherished these moments.He could never get enough of them.


End file.
